Silver Millennium
by Aritria3
Summary: AU.  Heavy on reinterpretation, a retelling of the origins of the senshi and the friendship between Serenity and Setsuna, set in the turmoil of the Silver Millennium
1. Prologue

_Year 930 of the Silver Millennium_

Sailor Pluto calmly reached out from the darkness and, with a swift pull, snapped the Beryl loyalist's neck from behind.

The echoing sizzle of laze fire burned through the air nearby as she let the body limply drop among his dead squad mates. Turning to hurry on along the blast-pitted royal grounds, she summoned shadows to cloak her presence again, in a swirl of darkly glowing rune patterns fading rapidly from solid black to nothingness. Far overhead, an explosion blanketed the night sky in momentary blinding light. _Another of the royal cruisers taken down? Or maybe one of the Dark Kingdom's fleet ships this time._ She couldn't tell, and didn't bother to check. By this point after so many had died, she could barely summon the will to care. She had greater things to worry about.

A human sized flaming comet landed on a distant roof, instantly leaping off again in a swift flurry of scorching fire. _Mars, falling back toward the palace_. The defensive line must have fallen; as fierce a warrior as Mars was, she would never give ground unless directly ordered.

But wasn't she paired with another senshi? Setsuna seemed to recall — _ah_. A dark streak landed on the same roof and stumbled into a clumsy roll with a quiet yelp, the wicked gleam of a flailing halberd flashing a dim reflection. Pluto hastened her pace and with a few enhanced leaps was standing on the same roof, uncloaking her form next to the girl struggling to get up.

"Setsuna?" Saturn's expression was of complete shock on noticing her, eyes wide as she stared at Pluto's fuku. "When did you — ?" she was cut off as a nearby explosion shook the building, toppling her over with another cry of agony.

Pluto stood her ground easily as a blazing hot wind whipped by, unfazed by the shaking. Mechanically her eyes drifted up and down Saturn's dirty form, silently cataloging the numerous wounds and rips to her uniform. _Matted blood in hair, possible minor concussion. Ripped skirt and torso piece split, defensive shield emitters likely affected along with life support functions. _Her gaze scanning downward, she noted Saturn's leg with pronounced abrasions and bruising, boot almost torn in two. _Crushed? Runic circuits in that boot likely completely ruined; useless. _

"Setsuna, tell me what happened. Why are you wearing that?" Saturn's voice was pleading as she crawled to her knees, wincing with every pronounced movement.

Pluto ignored her question. "Uranus and Neptune? Where?"

Saturn hesitated, but painfully pointed toward a flickering section of the horizon, where the light of concentrated small arms fire and constant bombing flashed with the highest intensity. "There. Still with the Queen, as you asked."

Pluto nodded, and with a sudden rough yank pulled Saturn to her feet, the small girl biting back a scream of pain. "Palace," Pluto commanded. "Regroup with Mars and the others."

Letting go of Saturn, who stumbled and barely stayed up with the help of her halberd, Pluto strode to the edge of the roof in preparation to leap toward the other two outer senshi.

"Wait!" cried a desperate Saturn, "What about you?"

"I'll bring Serenity. Wait there for us." She turned and glared at Saturn. "Go. Now!" And Pluto was off, racing toward her Queen.

_Stay alive, Serenity. _Her leaps grew faster and harsher, as the scenery around her began to blur with speed.

_I'm coming, so stay alive!_


	2. Prologue Part 2

_Circa 12000 BCE (Old Earth Calendar)_

The tower had been there for as long as Porrima had known.

It stood in the middle of the deep waters, far past the beach in the direction of the sunset. It was so very tall, that Porrima could stand at the edge of their village and search for the top of the tower, and fall backwards into the grass from looking so high. In the night it seemed to shimmer as the moonlight passed through it, the material of the tower in some sections threadbare and falling apart. Given time, Porrima thought that maybe the whole tower would disappear into the sea.

"Mother," she asked one night as the fire was dying, "what is the tower in the sea, that reaches to the heavens?"

"It was a ship, child." Her mother rocked her chair gently near the warm flames, cradling the nursing infant in her arms. "A ship that brought our parents and our parent's parents from the stars."

"Like old grandpa Decima?" He was not really her grandpa, but he was the oldest man in the village. She had heard some old women gossiping about him once; he was adult even when they were children, but he was still alive. One of them had said that he might be even older than the tower itself.

Porrima furrowed her brow, concentrating hard. "What is a ship, mother?"

And so mother had to explain it to her. How once great flying buildings were built, that people could ride inside; how once they used it to go at great speed to great distances; how once there were no humans on Earth for a long long time, and they lived instead on the Moon, and on eight other great planets and their moons as well.

"Then we all lived among the glittering lights in the sky once, mother?" Porrima struggled to climb onto her father's tall chair, but was failing. She wished she were older and bigger already. "Are you from the stars too?"

"No, child. I was born here in this green land. As were you. As was your sister, and your father."

Porrima frowned as she built a little staircase out of the light, shiny metal objects lying around the cabin. There were many of them, all with strange designs and etchings, some with flat glass areas that were blank, others with little buttons that she could push but did nothing. Like with the tower, Porrima did not know what these things meant either; but for now they were useful to her. She climbed up onto the chair and plopped down, satisfied with her ingenuity. "Will I get to go up to the stars one day?"

Her mother smiled but shook her head silently. Porrima pouted; it sounded exciting.

The door opened at that moment, and Porrima's father walked in with the sound of the grasses rustling and the chirping of the night insects. He smelled of dirt from the farms, and of stress; Porrima could tell that he was upset, by the way his face stayed tense even as he greeted them and stomped the day's mud off his woven sandals.

"The others do not like us, Carmenta. So many different villages, just as many different languages, and it seems like we will remain divided and unable to work together." Porrima's father was an important man, and he travelled often to the other villages in the crescent green, to talk and trade. Porrima had never been to those other villages; that was another thing she wanted to do one day.

Her mother sighed. This happened often, with her father angry and speaking of things Porrima didn't understand, and her mother sighing. "If only we could still talk to one another and understand. Like in the stories, when we were still among the stars."

"Come, Carmenta," her father scolded her mother. "Do not fill Porrima's head with stories of the past. We are here now; we must look to the future. Now, the convention of the Nine Villages will happen soon —" Porrima did not care to listen to the rest. The talk of the adults was boring and did not make much sense to her.

She yawned and left her parents to their talk, leaving the little makeshift stack of objects where it was. The warmth of her furred woven bed welcomed her back for the night.

~.~.~

She woke up abruptly, and gasped. A figure hovered over her — a woman, with hair that shimmered a faint green in the still-dark night — and was examining her closely with maroon eyes.

Porrima could hardly see. The fire had died to embers, and now only faint streams of moonlight illuminated the still room. "Are you a dream?" she whispered.

The woman paused, and gave her a tense smile; though Porrima thought it seemed cold and unfeeling.

Her eyes adjusting, now she could see that the woman was wearing something strange and different from their furs and woven rough clothes; it had a large maroon bow on the chest, and even in the darkness the torso was a brilliant clean white, of a strange fabric. On her forehead rested a golden device, with a jewel in the center.

But then she was moving, and Porrima couldn't see much anymore as an arm, gloved in the same white fabric, blocked her vision.

A glowing light enveloped her; she struggled a little in startled surprise, but her body felt warm and weak, so she stopped. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the same glow coming from where her father and mother slept, along with her sister.

Then it was over and she had control of her limbs again, but the woman was already gone out the door. The door latched with a quiet click.

Porrima clambered out of her bed and darted over to the window. Not caring about the noise she opened the shutters with all her strength, moonlight flooding in with the sudden movement. Her eyes darted; was the woman still in sight?

There!

She saw a small figure standing on a hill far to the distance, having moved there at an impossible pace; a noble and proud figure, in her pure white and dark green, with knee length emerald hair flowing behind her on the sea breeze. A shining staff topped with a glowing dark red gem was held in her grasp.

The woman looked back over to Porrima and the village. Then in a swirl of lights and hovering symbols, she shot skyward in a beam of starlight.


End file.
